


Meeting Claudia

by argentscoyote



Series: People From Different TV Formats That Need to Interact [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, There's A Tag For That
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:02:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7386331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentscoyote/pseuds/argentscoyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro expected a night of fun and romance with Malia. What he didn't expect was a five-year-old girl waiting for her at home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting Claudia

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first time posting on here. No idea how to work this website, but in hopefully all went well. Hope you like this little dabble of a ship i didn't even know could be this great (in my opinion) x

Malia felt her stomach knot as she and Pietro neared her house. This was the first time she was brining someone home since the accident, the first time she was introducing Claudia to someone who could more than just another friend. Nervous was in no way enough to explain how she felt. There were so many ways this could go, so many ways this could end in disaster. The night had started out so beautifully. He had taken her out to dinner, not one of those five-star places but not a diner either. He had even shaved for the occasion, and she couldn’t help but notice how different he looked without facial hair, or how different he looked in a light blue button up instead of his usual attire. It was somewhere in the middle of the date, somewhere where she was so caught up in the way he looked, the way he smelt, and the way he spoke towards, the way he treated her that Malia blurted out “Do you want to come home with me after this?”

He was stunned, to say the least, but smiled widely as he said, “I’d like that.”

She just didn’t tell him what he’d find when they got home.

She looked to Pietro who walked next to her. He smiled when he caught her gaze, and swung their intertwined hands. She couldn’t help it then, smiling back. Really smiling. This was the first time she felt like this, happy and somewhat ready to move on since the accident. Pietro was amazing, kind and funny and passionate about the one’s he loved. Wanda was his everything, the very first thing on his list of priorities, but he made sure to make space and time for Malia. She was important to him, not just a casual affair. That was why she decided to bring him home. Malia wouldn’t be a side occasion for Pietro. She’d be an everyday, first in the morning and last thing at night. Even though she doubted this, deep down a part of her knew he was the right one to bring home.

“This is me,” she said as they approached the door. She let go of Pietro’s hand to get the keys out of her bag, but stopped short from opening the door. She closed her eyes, and then turned to face him, being met with a confused expression when she opened them again. 

“I’m not expecting anything to happen, if that’s what you’re worried about, Malia,” Pietro said, laughing towards the end. She could’ve melted then. He didn’t even expect to have sex. God, could he be more perfect?

“What? Oh, no. I mean, well yes. Just,” she breathed. “Just please don’t bolt straight away when I open this door.”

He tilted his head, now slightly scared of what might be revealed on the other side. Malia spared one more look, before unlocking the door and pushing it open. 

They entered, and Pietro took in the house. It was a double story, and extremely homey. It was decorated simply, which was a huge contrast to the way Tony decorated the Avengers Compound he and Wanda were staying in. He was about to compliment Malia on her house, when he stopped short upon noticing all sorts of toys strewn across the lounge room floor. Footsteps were heard then, running fast from the upstairs area. He turned to Malia to ask about the toys and little footsteps, when a little girl around the age of five bolted down the stairs and ran straight into her arms. “Mommy!” She shouted, throwing her arms around Malia. “You’re home!”

“Yes, baby,” she giggled, putting the girl down, crouching, and running her hands through her hair. “I missed you. Were you good for grandpa?” She asked.

The little girl nodded enthusiastically. “He fell asleep watching the news upstairs.”

Malia laughed. “I’ll wake him later.”

“Mommy?” Pietro couldn’t help the surprise in his voice. The little girl turned around to face him, the same confusion on his face matching hers. Apparently she hadn’t noticed him before. Malia’s ease around the girl turned into a nervous stiffness as she turned to the man standing before her. He looked between the girl and Malia, noting the similar big brown eyes and dark hair. Pietro raised his eyebrows.

Malia took in a deep breath and she took the girl’s hand and pulled her in front of her, placing her hands on the girl’s shoulders. “Pietro, this is Claudia,” she said. “My daughter.”  
Pietro stood stunned for a moment, looking between Claudia and Malia. This is not what he had expected. Not at all. He had expected something bizarre with the way she had been acting, this just wasn’t it. Maybe some crazy family members, a phsyco ex, a thousand cats. But not a kid. But he thought of all the signs: Malia smiling fondly at her phone’s screensaver which he now saw to be Claudia, Malia always looking and smiling at other children, Malia always thinking of others, Malia always being cautious of the time. It made sense then, that she was a mother. And being a mother just made her all the more interesting.

He noticed how scared she looked, how she was anticipating his reaction, his next move. Claudia looked up at him, wide brown eyes curious as to who was this strange man in her house. He sunk to his knees so he was closer to the little girl’s height, and held his hand upright. “It’s nice to meet you, Claudia. I’m Pietro. I’m a friend of your mom.” 

Claudia smiled brightly, dimples fully on display as she high fived Pietro. She giggled, and soon he did too. She looked at his hair, and held a piece in her hands. “Your hairs a weird colour,” she noted. 

Pietro laughed, and nodded. “It’s uh, yeah,” he settled. “It is a weird colour. Not my choice, though. I’d much rather have your colour.”

Claudia laughed, and played with her hair, which was in two plaits. “You can have it if you want,” she said. Her face lit up, and she looked at him excitedly. “Maybe we can swap!”

“I think that is the best idea I’ve ever heard,” he responded, his enthusiasm matching hers.

He stood up to his full height as Malia told Claudia to get ready for bed. Claudia complained, but obviously knew she was not going to win the argument. She looked at Pietro, and waved as she walked. “Good night, Petrol.”

He laughed, but waved too. “Good night, Claudia.”

“I’ll be there soon,” Malia said as Claudia disappeared up the stairs.

A silence settled upon them as Malia put her hands in her back pockets, waiting to hear what he had to say about the situation. He had reacted better than she had expected. The complete opposite, actually, but there was still the possibility he had been nice to Claudia because it was almost impossible to be mean to her. He liked kids, that was obvious. It was one of the reasons she liked him. But liking kids and dating a mom were two different things. “So,” he finally said. “You’re a mom.”

“For five years,” Malia joked. She didn’t know why, maybe because this was new territory and she wasn’t sure how to handle it. She grew serious again, and stepped towards him. “I know we need to talk about this, but –“

“But you need to put your daughter to bed,” he finished for her. “It’s okay, go. I’ll make coffee, and then we can talk.”

“Thank you,” Malia said. She gave Pietro an appreciative smile, letting him know she was grateful he didn’t run for the hills the moment he saw Claudia, and then made her way upstairs.

 

********

 

“He talks funny,” Claudia said as Malia pulled back the covers of her daughter’s bed. She had already dressed herself by the time Malia made her way upstairs, and was in the middle of undoing her plaits when her mother appeared. 

“That’s because he’s not from here,” Malia said, putting Claudia in her bed and pulling the covers over her, making sure she was nice and warm. Once Claudia was tucked in, Malia sat down on the bed, her fingers running softly through Claudia’s hair. “He’s from Sokovia.”

“Where’s that?” Claudia asked. 

“Eastern Europe,” Malia answered. “If you want, I’ll show you on the map tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Claudia giggled. 

“Yeah?” Malia laughed, tucking a piece of stray hair behind Claudia’s ear. Her heart melted every time Claudia smiled or giggled. She had his smile, had his mannerisms, his sense of humour, his curious spirit. She was more like her father than she’d ever know. Malia ached on the inside thinking of him. For a moment she wished she wasn’t in this situation. Introducing a possible boyfriend to her daughter and waiting for both of their approvals. She wished he was still here, with her, tucking in their daughter. But reality sucked ass, and Malia accepted the situation for what it was. “Claudia,” she said. “Would you be okay with Pietro hanging around?”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“What? No,” Malia laughed at Claudia’s bluntness. That, she definitely got from her mother. “He’s a friend, a very good friend. But if you’re not okay with him being around, then he doesn’t have to stick around. You come first, baby. Always.”

Claudia paused for a moment to think. She even put her index finger to her chin and looked upwards. She turned back to her mother, and smiled brightly. “I like his accent.”  
Malia smiled. “I’ll be sure to tell him that.” She stood up, and leaned down to kiss Claudia forehead. “Good night, baby girl. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Claudia said as she turned in her bed. Malia walked over to the door, and shut the light off. She watched over Claudia one more time before she closed the door, preparing herself for what awaited downstairs. 

 

*****

 

Pietro heard two voices coming down stairs. 

“You can stay the night if you want to, Dad. Claudia would love to see you in the morning.” It was Malia. 

“Not tonight,” the man she called Dad replied. “I got an early shift at the station tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Malia responded. “Thank you so much again, Sheriff, for looking after her.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Malia. She’s my granddaughter, I’ll look after her anytime. Even bring her to the station if you need to one day.”

Malia laughed. “I have a feeling she’ll be spending allot of time there one day. She’s allot like him in that way.”

“Yeah,” the sheriff said. His voice sounded fond, yet sad, like he was thinking of a happy memory that pained him to think of. “She’ll be telling me how to do my job soon enough.”

“Just like he did.” Malia had the same tone in her voice. Pietro paused from stirring the coffee. Suddenly, any noise he would make seemed like a disturbance in an important  
moment. 

“He would’ve been proud of you, Malia,” the sheriff said. “You did something very brave tonight. It took me years to do what you did tonight.”

“Strange, I don’t feel brave,” Malia replied. They were by the front door now, Pietro could see them from his place in the kitchen. Malia looked a bit sad, so did the Sheriff. But she shook it off, and smiled, opening her arms towards the older man as he embraced her. “Thanks again, Dad. Get some sleep.”

“Oh, I plan too.”

Pietro continued to stir the coffee as she closed the door. He picked up the spoon and placed it in the sink as she walked in, sitting down on one of the breakfast bar chairs. Pietro walked over to join her, and handed her a cup. “Claudia go down alright?” He asked.

Malia nodded as she sipped the cup. “She likes your accent.”

“Oh?” He laughed. Malia continued to nod, laughing into her cup. 

Pietro took another sip of his coffee, and took the time of silence to look around the house. There were pictures, lots of them, all on the wall and on the table. Of Malia, Claudia, and two older men who he noticed the one to be the Sheriff, the other he assumed to be Malia’s own father since she looked like him. There was another of a Hispanic man posing with Malia, a girl with strawberry blond her, an Asian girl, and a boy younger than them with bright blue eyes. One specific photo, however, grabbed his attention. It was of a man with short brown hair and brown eyes posing with a younger Claudia on the beach, both smiling brightly at the camera. He had his arms around the toddler’s waist. They had similar smiles. Pietro saw another photo of the same man and Malia. She wore a big, white lace dress with her hair done up. He was in a black and white tux, a white flower in his front pocket. He looked at her with such love in his eyes it almost hurt Pietro just to look at the photograph. A wedding photo. There was another of the same man, and another, and another. Almost half of the photos was of him.

Pietro turned back to Malia to find her staring at her cup. He swallowed, unsure of how to word his question, doubting if he should ask it at all. This was a difficult situation he hadn’t pictured himself in. He had met Malia without thoughts of starting something. It was just a casual encounter at a coffee shop that turned into a few dates. He liked her, he couldn’t deny that. She was perfect. She was just a package deal. 

“Can I ask…” he trailed off once he found his voice. “What happened to Claudia’s father?”

She was quiet for a bit. It was obviously still painful to think of. He figured it’d never stop being so. She wrapped her fingers around the cup and kept her gaze down while he  
stared at her, waiting for her to answer. He’d understand if she didn’t, though. 

“His name was Stiles,” she finally said. “We were high school sweethearts. I was new in town, didn’t know anything or anyone really, and he took on the responsibility of showing me around. We fell in love, so dangerously deeply. Got married soon after we graduated, and had Claudia a year and a bit later. She’s named after his mom. It was my idea. He almost cried when I suggested it,” a smile broke on her face, and it disappeared as soon as it appeared. “He died when she was two. She can just about remember him.”

“How?” Pietro couldn’t help but ask.

“Car accident,” she said. “His crappy jeep broke down while he was in the middle of a busy intersection. He died instantly.” Malia sighed heavily. “God, I told him to either fix that damn thing properly or get a new car.” Her voice broke at the end. Malia put her face in her hands, holding her breath to hold back the tears. Would it ever stop hurting whenever she spoke about him?

“I’m sorry,” Pietro said almost immediately. His heart broke for Claudia. He knew what it was like to grow up without a parent, in his case both. The difference between them, though, was that he could remember almost everything about his parents while she only knew her father to be a man in all these photographs. He wondered then, what was worse. To live a life remembering the person you’ve lost, or live a life not remembering a thing about the person you’ve lost. 

He felt for Malia, too. It was clear that Stiles was the love of her life. The only one she wanted to spend her life with. She would’ve gone anywhere with him, grew old together, and probably would be buried together. It was evident that her heart broke every morning when she woke up and saw he wasn’t next to her. That although the pictures all over the house were painful to look at, removing them would be like ripping her heart out of her chest. She loved him, and she always would. But it was also evident in the way she looked and spoke to Pietro, that although part of her still wasn’t over Stiles’ death, another part was tired of being sad.

“You didn’t sign up for this,” she said. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

“I’m not leaving, if that’s what you’re implying,” he replied. “This might not be what I expected, but I’m not just going to walk away. I’m not saying I’m ready to step up into anything–“

“I’m not asking you to,” Malia told him quickly. They had only been on a few dates. She didn’t want to think of Pietro being a father to Claudia. Stiles was still so fresh in her mind. Claudia might not have remembered Stiles to be her father, but to Malia he always would be. She wasn’t ready to consider someone else for the position of Claudia’s dad, although if she did, she knew Pietro be great at it. 

“I like you, Malia. And if she’s anything like her mother, I know I’ll like Claudia too. That is if you’ll both have me?”

He reached out for a hand, removing it from the cup and letting both of their hang between them. She looked at their hands, his firmly gripped around hers, and smiled. She looked up at him, his silver hair now a mess and his eyes shining bright. “We’d both like that very much.”

 

 

They spent the rest of the night drinking coffee and sharing stories. Malia told him all about Claudia, what she was like, what she was into. It didn’t slip pass him that with majority of the things she said, “just like her father” usually went along with it. Pietro didn’t seem to mind. They talked and laughed and comforted until Malia couldn’t keep her eyes open. He didn’t stay the night. Perhaps if it was a different situation, if he didn’t know about Claudia he would’ve. But there was a little girl upstairs, and if he wanted this to work with Malia, if he wanted to be a part of both her and Claudia, he had to be prepared to put both of them before himself. 

Months down the line Pietro proved himself time and time again. Malia still struggled with Stiles being gone, but Pietro never pushed her about it. He gave her space when she needed it, and held her close when she wanted him to. He played with Claudia, building their relationship on the foundation as friendship. He wasn’t ready to be a father, and Malia wasn’t ready to let him be one. Regardless, Pietro would be whatever Malia or Claudia needed him to be. He never seized to amaze her, and she never wanted him to.

Maybe one day Claudia would call him Dad and Malia wouldn’t feel like screaming if she did. Maybe one day Malia would give Pietro 100% of herself as she did with Stiles. Maybe one day Pietro would feel worthy of the little family he got to be a part of. Until that possibility, they took each day as it came, and always relied on each other.


End file.
